


Limitations Are For Other People

by Powderpuff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 22:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12022167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powderpuff/pseuds/Powderpuff
Summary: Molly Weasley II is a catastrophe, and her family wouldn't change her for the world.Usually.





	Limitations Are For Other People

**Author's Note:**

> This might become a series, if I find the inspiration for the rest of the Next Gen. This one came about by wondering how Molly the Second would differ from her namesake. The answer? A great deal.

Little Molly Weasley was born in a storm.

The sky had been nearly black, with a disconcerting tinge of green that whispered of tornado weather. Rain lashed the windows, and every so often the building would shake, just slightly, with the crack of thunder. And in between one flash and another, her cry mingled with a thunderclap. It probably should have been a warning.

Aunt Hermione calls her Stormcrow, a joke only her and mum understand.

Molly walks before she crawls, runs as soon as she realizes what “fast” means. Percy is grey in a span of two years, a fact much remarked upon by Rita Skeeter. Audrey is in the best shape of her life and curses the day she ever said “yes” to Percy. Uncle George is delighted.

Molly is permanently dirty, and drawn to mud and chaos in equal measure.  After herself, Roxy, and Dom manage to demolish the burrow kitchen in a period of five minutes, it becomes a family rule that they are never left alone together. The lot are natural disasters before the age of six.

Shortly after she turns seven, Molly comes up to her uncle Marcus and asks what flying feels like.

Marcus doesn’t have the words, has never had the words; Oliver can, and does, talk endlessly for hours, passion in every sentence, but Marcus speaks in gestures and deeds. So it is now.

He takes her flying, not too high and not too fast, gentle with the turns and the spirals, one arm gripping her securely. Molly finds she loves flying; in a very real sense, she never comes back down.

Molly never takes to quidditch; that becomes Lucy’s domain. But Molly wants to fly, faster and faster, loves the feeling of the icy winter wind slashing her face and leaving it chapped and red, both chill and burn; the feeling of nothing but air all around her, one with her broom. She toes the edge of recklessness, wild but always careful, a hurricane confined to the sea, a constant contradiction. Straight O’s, and her A levels besides; Molly can’t stand knowing there’s something she hasn’t learned yet. But she’s in and out of the hospital wing like clockwork, because the tree demanded she climb it, the whomping willow a challenge she couldn’t say no to, the thawing lake begging to be swum, Hagrid’s beasts beautiful and bright. Molly is constantly looking for a way to feel like she did that first time, on Uncle Marc’s broom.

She goes into the Forbidden Forest with Dom and Roxy for a lark, gets bit by some mysterious insect, and ends up at St.Mungo’s for two weeks. But she considers it worth it, because Dom caught the bug, didn’t she, and its rare, and Dom should get to keep it, minister; it's not fair. Roxy noisily agrees.

When she hears this, Gran Weasley blinks once and goes to Andromeda’s for a drink. Flitwick observes that the little team will make many great discoveries, if they survive long enough. (He does not observe this to any Weasleys.)

When she says she wants to be an Animagus to her parents, she frames it as a question, a cosmetic politeness. She’ll do it, with or without permission, and they know it, know _her_. They can do nothing but acquiesce, but they wrangle a promise out of her that, if it goes wrong, she’ll give it up. Mum gives Uncle Marc and Uncle Harry a long lecture on the stories they tell adventurous children that Molly never finds out about.

She is methodical, is Molly Weasley. She goes in with a plan, accepts the constant monitoring by uncountable relatives. It is a long year.

And then she does it, she’s succeeded, and her triumphant falcon scream rings across the moors.


End file.
